"Citrus and Summer" by Jeanie O'Connor

To this day, I love the smell of Lime Old Spice aftershave! Very few people wear it. But, when I catch a whiff of that sweet, citrus scent, I remember one special evening I had shared with my father. A memory nearly as sweet to me, as the fragrance itself.

It was a very hot August evening. The sun was casting shadows across the top of the hill that our home sat upon. An occasional breeze would cause the leaves to cast a shadow on the soft grass, as they danced to the sound of the rustling of the maple trees’ leaves. In the air, the sound of barking dogs up the block, my two older brothers playing football with their friends on the side lot of our corner house.

I lay in the soft grass, below our porch. In front of me is the sidewalk connecting the stairs from the street, to the stairs leading up the porch and to the front door. As I gaze in the crack of the sidewalk, I observe a trail of red ants. They are working hard to carry in the last of the food they have scrounged up during the daylight hours. Each of the ants worked together to carry a crumb from a cracker, through the tiny sand particles surrounding the hole, down into the cavernous city below. I wish that I could shrink to their size in order to explore the many roads beneath this hot sidewalk. I want to become a part of their tribe and the close knit camaraderie these tiny creatures share. Ants always look after one another, just like our family does.

I see a drinking straw lying in between some blades of grass. I think I’ll just pretend that I’m one of the ants, too. I begin to trail behind the last one in this row of ants. I use that straw to pretend that this straw is now me; this straw is also an ant that needs to follow the leaders of the tribe. I’m dragging the straw through the crack in the sidewalk that we’re marching in, guiding us to the ant hill with the rest of our family. Just as I’m approaching my turn to enter the hole to the caverns below, I hit a small piece of cement that causes me to have a spurt in my marching motion. As the straw frees itself from this hold, I accidentally hit the mound of sand and the entryway becomes clogged with an avalanche of sand. My newly found tribe is scrambling to dig out and they are not happy. I can’t believe that I’ve caused all of this turmoil. I hide from them by rolling over onto my back to gaze at the different shapes I see in the clouds above me.

Rolling over once more, I lay at the crest of the soft, grassy hill that slopes to the public portion of the sidewalk below. It would be so fun to continue the roll down this tall hill. It’s just too far, and too hot, to make the climb back up those fifteen stairs. I think I’ll just see what I can find in the sparse, white clouds above instead.

Just as I’m beginning to doze off to sleep, I remember how I have just angered the ants. I really should stay awake. I wouldn’t want them to retaliate against me while I’m asleep. They could make their way through the jungle of blades of grass, and bite my exposed arms and legs only to leave big, itchy red welts. I move quickly onto my elbows so I can spy on their movements. They can’t sneak up on me. I won’t let them.

My anticipation is building as I lay here. Dad should be home from work soon. I can’t wait until Daddy comes home! Just as I’m starting to doze off, I hear the sound of my dad’s motorcycle boots coming up the steps. While this startles me a bit, the happiness gives me a boost of energy that causes me to scurry to my feet.

Dad always found a way to make time for me. With the world upon his shoulders, and four people vying for his attention, Dad would always do his best to attend to the needs of each of his family. We never missed a meal. The house is always safe and warm. None of us felt we were a burden to my 26 year-old dad. Each one of us is important to him, just as he’s important to us. His love is incredible.

My father bends down to look at me eye-to-eye; clear, light blue eye to light blue eye. His eyes sparkle nearly as bright as his huge, white smile does. He scoops me up by my armpits and lifts me high up into the air. Lowering me to a hug at his chest, I feel my feet hit the top of his kneecaps. I relish the hug he’s sharing with me. I bury my face into the base of his neck and I catch a whiff of a soft, sweet, citrus scent. Oh, yeah, I love him and his smell.

Dad must have had an exceptional day. He begins to sing in my ear, “I could have daaaannnnnncced all niiiiiiiiigght… I could have daaaannnnnncced all niiiiiiiiigght…And still have daaaannnnnncced some more!” Each time he sang the word “daaaannnnnncced”, he swung me around in a twirling motion and my legs would fly around his body only to kick him in the kidneys. These movements only made us laugh—harder and harder. His hug is loving, firm, hug made everything in our worlds perfect.

We looked eyeball to eyeball, nose to nose again. I returned his kindness by embracing his cheeks in my little hands. One hug, even tighter than before, and I get to have that sweet scent again. Lime Old Spice Aftershave…Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh…

The moment was interrupted as we can hear Mom calling for us from the front door. Here come Bob and Jack, running up the hill, trying to push the other one back so that they can win this race to my dad’s love. Jack gets there first—this time. Dad gives me a dip to end this formal dance and serenade.

We all love it when Dad is home. The summer is especially a wonderful time for an early return from work. That’s when we enjoy our family dinner at the dining room table. I help mom with the dishes. When all of the after dinner chores are finished, we can play a number of games together. My favorite ones are kick-the-can and going for a walk in the dark, through our neighborhood. If we don’t start whining or fighting, Dad will take us on a longer walk.

We usually go five or six short end of the blocks toward City Park. Then, Dad will pretend he’s still in the Navy and call us to attention. We stand as straight as possible, shoulders back, guts held in, serious looks on our faces. “AtteeennnnnnSHUN! LEEEeeefft FACE! FORRRWAaaaarrrrd MARCH!” We begin to march stiffly in a row, one behind the other. Usually my oldest brother was the leader, then my middle brother, and I would bring up the rear. First, Jack accidentally steps on the back of Bob’s shoe. This causes me to step on the back of Jack’s shoe, and Dad starts to burst out laughing. While Jack and Bob are arguing, Dad and I are laughing behind our hands as we cover our mouths. As we round the last of the corners from the half-mile walk, we begin to wind into our whiney, nit-picky state of mind. Just in time, we arrive at the steps of our home. WHEW! No one has reached the melt-down point; though it was close.

Luckily, the next time I would have the opportunity to smell this endearing fragrance, will be when Dad makes his final check on the three of us just before turning out each or our lights for bedtime. He gently buries his face in my neck, kisses me until I giggle from the tickling of his whiskers, and with that sparkle in his eye and that great smile of his, Dad says, “Goodnight, Kitten!” A soft, gentle kiss is placed at the end of my pug nose.

“Night, Daddy!” I respond, holding his face between my hands. It doesn’t take me long and I’m drifting off to sleep. It’s a happy, content, safe night of sleeping. All from one last blanket of a soft, sweet, citrus smell of that Lime Old Spice Aftershave. Life is so good.